Stuffed
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Harley Quinn is trying to adjust to her life in Arkham City while simultaneously trying to cope with the Joker's illness and maintain what little sanity she has left. But when her precious babies go missing, she reaches the end of her tether.
1. Chapter 1

**Stuffed**

"What the hell is this?" demanded Manny Calvroni as Harley Quinn strode into the room. "Where's the Joker?"

"Thanks, Manny, I'd love a seat," retorted Harley, grabbing a chair and sitting down, propping her legs up on the table and smiling at him. "Ain't you just a gentleman for offering?"

Manny shared a look with Donny Montera, his right hand man. The two men headed a gang of thugs, one of the many in Arkham City, although Manny and Donny's previous connections with the mafia before their incarceration in the facility had made their gang specially trained and highly sought after by the so-called freak factions in Arkham City, headed by the Joker, the Penguin, and Two-Face. So far the gang had managed to remain independent, but now they were looking to join whichever freak would offer them the best price. They had already been personally approached by the Penguin and Two-Face, and they had understood that they would be personally meeting with the Joker as well. But instead he had sent his little slut Harley Quinn. It was an insult if ever Manny had to suffer one. Clearly they weren't important enough to Joker to merit a personal meeting, and he wasn't prepared to deal with this dumb blonde floozy.

"Look, sweetheart, I don't know what you're doing here, but hadn't you better go back home before you get hurt?" he said. "This is a business for men, y'know."

"Aw, ain't you sweet to be concerned for my welfare, Manny?" asked Harley, grinning. "But I think I can handle myself. Mr. J sent me to do some negotiating for him, and I'd hate to leave before I got a chance to do what he told me to. I'm a good girl like that."

Manny studied her shapely body, revealed in the tight leather she was wearing, and had to admit that the clown was a lucky guy to be able to have that whenever he wanted. He could never understand what a hot little number like Harley was doing with that crazy maniac, and frankly he didn't like to think about what attracted her to him. There were rumors about the kinda sick stuff they got up to together, and he believed every one of them.

"Why did J send you?" he demanded. "Why didn't he come?"

Harley giggled. "Aw, he did come earlier today, Manny! All over his little Harley girl! But if you mean why ain't he here, it's because he's got more important things to do than waste time talking to you bozos."

Manny was stunned. This was certainly different from the respectful and deferential approach of the previous two. But then what had he actually expected from the Joker? Sending his whore was probably some big joke to him. Well, Manny wasn't laughing.

"Yeah, and I ain't got time to waste talking to the Joker's little slut," he retorted. "So why don't you go back to him and tell him to screw himself? Or you, it don't matter which."

"I know which I'd prefer!" giggled Harley. "Aw, Manny, you're a thoughtful guy, but like I said, I ain't leaving until I've done some negotiating. I don't disobey Mr. J or he punishes me. Which I gotta admit, I usually enjoy though. You ever been spanked until you bleed? It's real fun."

She grinned at him, her hand sliding down and resting on her waist where her tattoo of the Joker's face disappeared into her pants. She gently stroked the face on the tattoo, smiling at Manny. "Still, I get better rewards if I'm a good girl. Daddy loves his good girl," she murmured.

"Look, I ain't gonna degrade myself talking to a sick little bitch like you!" snapped Manny. "So just beat it, you filthy whore! Tell J if he wants to talk, to come himself, and not send his little slut to do his work for him! It's just insulting!"

"Insulting?" repeated Harley. "He meant it to be the opposite. Mr. J thought you'd prefer dealing with an attractive specimen of womanhood over him. Easier on the eyes, he thought. I'm a little hurt you don't agree, Manny."

"No offense, sweetheart, but I don't think you've got the brains for any real negotiating," he retorted.

"What makes you think that?" she asked. "Is it 'cause I'm blonde? That's a pretty crude stereotype, Manny, and anyway, this ain't my natural color. Mr. J wouldn't have sent me to do this if he didn't think I could do a good job. He trusts me. Why can't you?"

"Is that the real reason he sent you, though?" murmured Donny. He was always the quiet, more thoughtful one, the brains of the operation, he would claim. Manny naturally disagreed.

"You calling me a liar?" retorted Harley.

"Oh no, I think he trusts you to do a good job," retorted Donny. "I think he has to, though, if the rumors are true. He can't go traipsing around Arkham City in his condition."

"Condition?" repeated Manny. "What's wrong with J?"

Donny shrugged. "The rumor is he's sick. Real sick. Terminally sick."

"Where'd you hear that from, Donny?" snapped Harley.

Donny shrugged again. "Why else would he let you get up off your back? You ain't got anything else going for you except what's between your legs."

"You're a real class act, Donny," retorted Harley. "Don't talk to women much, do ya? I guess you don't need to, though – you generally prefer the company of guys, or at least, that's what I hear."

Donny immediately went for his gun, but Manny held up his hand. "All right, toots, why don't you talk? What's Joker's offer?"

Harley shrugged. "It's simple. Join him and live. Join the other two and die."

"Yeah? And how's he gonna carry out that threat if he can't even come here and meet us?" snapped Manny.

"He can't," snapped Donny. "Nobody's afraid of a dying man."

"Oh, I don't think that's true, Donny," retorted Harley. "If a guy is dying, he ain't got nothing to lose, see? Not that Mr. J is dying. I don't know who started that rumor, but it's clearly just intended to make stupid people underestimate him. Maybe Mr. J started it himself. That would be just like one of his jokes."

"What, just like his threat?" snapped Manny. "Because I ain't laughing, sweetheart. People don't threaten me, especially not some sick, crazy, stupid, ugly freak like the Joke…"

Quick as a flash, Harley had leapt from her seat and punched him across the face, knocking him backward. Donny had whipped out his gun, but Harley kicked it from his hand in an instant. She kicked him again in the stomach, sending him slamming against the wall. She seized Manny by the collar and dragged him to his feet.

"You don't talk that way about puddin'!" she hissed, furiously. "He's a goddamn genius, you hear me?! A perfect, handsome, gorgeous genius! And you ain't worthy of working for him! Mr. J didn't really think you would be. He sent me less as a negotiator and more of an executioner. He knows I prefer action to a lotta talk. That's just the kinda gal I am."

Manny was reaching for the gun in his jacket. He pulled it out and Harley kneed him in the groin. He dropped the gun, gasping. Harley released him, picking up his gun as well as the one Donny had dropped. "I'm sure if Mr. J were here, he'd say something funny like 'double your pleasure, double your fun, with double the bullets and double the guns!' But I ain't funny like he is. Just have to give my own punchline. And like I said, I'm less of a talking, more of a physical comedy kinda gal. Sayonara, jerks!"

She pulled the triggers, simultaneously shooting them both in the head. Then she jumped up to the windowsill, leaping outside just before the guards rushed into the room.

Harley landed on her feet and strode off down the street, whistling to herself. A few moments later, the radio on her belt crackled. "This is Daddy to Princess. You there, pooh bear?"

Harley picked up the radio, beaming. "Yeah, puddin', reading you loud and clear!"

"How'd things go with the gangsters, pumpkin?"

"Aw, it was a blast, puddin'!" she replied. "Wish you could have been there to see the looks on their faces as I put a bullet through each of them!"

"Well, Daddy wishes he could have been there too, pumpkin," he replied. "You know how he loves watching his Harley girl work, and how it makes him want to rev her engine hard."

"Vroom, vroom, puddin'," breathed Harley. "I'm just heading home now if you wanna oil my gears."

"You know Daddy ain't feeling the greatest, kid," he replied. He suddenly started coughing, and Harley's face immediately fell.

"Puddin'? You ok?" she murmured as the coughing gradually stopped.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Harley. This ain't nothing serious, just a little illness, y'know. I'll be better in no time."

"Course you will, Mr. J," said Harley, with more conviction than she felt. "Your Harley girl is coming home right now to take care of you. I'll be back quicker than you can say…"

"Well, hello, baby," murmured a voice, as a gang of thugs suddenly appeared from the alleyway, surrounding Harley. "Shouldn't walk around dressed like that in this place, sweetheart. Not unless you're willing to share."

Harley sighed. "Mr. J?"

"Yeah, cupcake?"

"I'll have to call you back. Just gotta deal with some scum who clearly don't know who I am."

"Have fun with them, pumpkin pie."

"You know I always do," she replied, grinning. She clipped the radio back onto her belt as the gang approached her.

"You guys wanna get physical with Harley Quinn, huh?" she asked, grinning at them.

This made two of the men pause as a murmur ran around the group. "That's the Joker's bitch!" hissed one.

"So?" demanded the gang leader. "The Joker ain't here, and you think eight of us can't take her?"

"I can," said one guy, licking his lips. "I'll take her so hard she'll be begging for mercy. Twice."

Harley grinned at him. "I like your optimism, handsome. But there's only one guy who can have me begging for mercy. There's only one guy who can have me period."

"Yeah, well, the clown ain't here to save you, sweetheart," growled the gang leader. "And I want a piece of that tight little ass."

Harley sighed. "Don't say I didn't warn you. Hope you guys like it rough."

She flipped out of the way as two guys rushed her, causing them to crash into each other. She backflipped into another man, kicking him in the face, then sprang onto her hands, leaping over two other guys and kicking out into their heads. As two more guys ran at her, she punched one in the jaw, then kicked the other in the stomach. She jumped over to the gang leader and slammed her skull into his then kicked him in the groin. Then she pulled out one of her guns. "Why don't you beg me for mercy now, handsome?" she whispered, holding it to his temple.

"Please…don't kill me!" he gasped.

"Aw, I'm all killed out for today anyway," sighed Harley, sheathing the gun. "Anyway, I'd prefer to leave you creeps alive to spread the word about what happens when anyone else thinks of touching Mr. J's merchandise. You see the stamp, buddy?" she demanded, pulling down the waistline of her pants to reveal her complete tattoo. "Means I'm his property, and his alone. No touchy."

And she kicked him in the face and walked away from the unconscious group, picking up her radio again. "Puddin'? You there?"

"Yeah, sweets?"

"I'll be home in a second."


	2. Chapter 2

Harley was singing as she strode into the loading bay of the steel mill. "_So anytime you're gettin' low, 'stead of lettin' go, just remember that ant – oops, there goes another rubber tree plant! Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant! Oops, there goes another rubber tree_…"

"Hi, Harley, where you been?" asked one of the henchman.

"Out on business for Mr. J," she snapped. "And it ain't none of yours."

"Ok, just asking," muttered the henchman. These rapid mood swings weren't unusual recently – Harley must really be worried about something.

She glared at him, then just as suddenly started singing again as she headed for the manager's office she shared with Joker. "_Oops, there goes another problem ker-plop!_"

She entered the room, shutting the door firmly behind her, and her smile immediately dropped, her face filling with concern and love for the man seated in the chair and hooked up to the IV drip. He _looked_ sick these days – blotches were visible on his white skin, and he had gotten thinner, more emaciated. His eyes that studied the plans on his lap were as bright as ever, but he coughed suddenly, a horrible, racking sound that seemed to shake his whole frame. Harley's eyes filled with tears at the sight, but she wiped them away hurriedly as he looked up at her and beamed.

"Pumpkin pie! You're back!" he exclaimed, holding out his arms to her.

She rushed over to him, embracing him tightly as she curled gently up into his lap. "How ya feeling, Mr. J?" she breathed, gazing at him with tear-stained eyes.

"Like a million bucks, kid," he retorted. "A million bucks put through a shredder!" He laughed, which ended in a cough. Harley clutched him tightly, feeling his whole body shake, and causing the tears to fall from her eyes.

"Oh, puddin'," she breathed, shutting her eyes and holding him gently against her chest. "Oh, my precious, precious puddin'."

She kissed him tenderly. "Ain't there anything your Harley girl can do for you?" she whispered, stroking his hair back.

"Well, you took care of the gangsters for me," he replied, grinning. "That was a big help, pooh."

"Yeah?" asked Harley, hopefully.

"Sure. Now I don't have to worry about Bird Boy or Bipolar Boy having an advantage over my guys," he retorted. "And the guys need all the help they can get. No matter how much you threaten them, they just stay useless. Not like you, pooh bear."

"I am useful to you, ain't I, puddin'?" breathed Harley.

"Course you are, kiddo," he replied.

"Cause that's all I want, to be useful to you, Mr. J," murmured Harley. "To help you, in any way I can. I love you, puddin'."

"Yeah, I know, sweets," he whispered. She kissed him tenderly.

"You will get better soon, won't you, puddin'?" she whispered. "You'll get better and things will go back to the way they were, won't they? The way they used to be – the gags, the schemes, you and me battling the Bat and the world, not stuck in this hellhole in the middle of some stupid gang war against these freaks. Things will go back to normal when you're all better, won't they? Y'know, in the days when you used to laugh."

He smiled. "I do laugh, kiddo," he murmured. "It's just harder these days, y'know. But nothing will ever stop me laughing, don't you worry about that. Not this disease, not the Bat, not nothing."

"I miss your laugh, puddin'," she murmured, leaning her forehead against his gently. "What can your Harley girl do to amuse you?"

He grinned at her and was about to respond when he suddenly started coughing again, choking on the blood that clogged his throat. He coughed it up into his handkerchief, staining it red in seconds. Harley had never seen an attack this violent before, and could only stare in horror, powerless to do anything about it. It was the worst feeling imaginable.

He stopped and shut his eyes, leaning back in his chair. Harley lifted up her hand and drew the handkerchief away from his mouth. She gently began to lick the blood from his lips. "Why'd you do it, puddin'?" she breathed. "You knew it was an unstable and dangerous chemical, you'd seen it kill a bunch of guys, why'd you inject yourself with it?"

He shrugged. "Figured it couldn't have made me any more unstable and dangerous than I already am," he murmured, grinning. "You know me, Harl, I do things because they're fun. And I ain't got any regrets. It was a fun rumble with the Bat anyway. Shame I couldn't kill him, but there's time enough for that, right, kiddo?"

"Is there, Mr. J?" she whispered.

He smiled at her. "All the time in the world, sweets."

She couldn't help smiling back at him. She couldn't help trusting him, and believing in him. Because she loved him.

He had his hands on her waist. He slid one down across her tattoo and into her pants. She let out a little moan. "Oh, Mr. J!" she murmured, taking his face in her hands and kissing him languidly as his other hand reached up to unbuckle her corset. "Thought you weren't feeling yourself, puddin'," she breathed.

"I'm not. I'm feeling you," he retorted, chuckling.

She giggled. "Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" she murmured, smiling at him.

"Both," he retorted, smiling back.

She giggled again. "It's yours, puddin'," she whispered, pressing herself against him. "All of it. All yours."

He chuckled. "I wanna see my property, sweets," he whispered, grinning.

She grinned back then stood up, undoing the rest of the buckles on her corset and ripping it off. She pulled her top off slowly and began to unhook her bra when a knock came on the door.

Joker growled. "What?!" he snapped, as Harley pulled her top back on, sighing in disappointment.

A henchman entered. "This had better be good," growled Joker, reaching for the gun in his pocket.

"This came for you, boss – guy said it was urgent," muttered the henchman hastily, thrusting an envelope at him.

"What guy?" snapped Joker.

"Guy who delivered it. One of Penguin's thugs."

"Stay here!" snapped Joker as the henchman raced for the door. "I might wanna reply!"

He tore open the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper – one was a short note, and one a photograph. He looked from one to the other, his eyes narrowing and his smile twisting into a grimace of hate. Then he chuckled.

"Y'know what they say when you receive bad news!" he laughed. "Don't shoot the messenger!"

He ripped out his gun and shot the henchman in the head without looking up from the letter. "Thought that would have made me feel better," he muttered. "It hasn't."

Harley stared at him. It must have been really bad news if killing someone hadn't cheered him up. "Puddin', what is it?" she asked, concerned.

"Nothing," he said, folding them both and shoving them into his jacket pocket. "Nothing, pooh bear."

"How can it be nothing if it's upset you that much?" asked Harley.

"Nothing you need to see," he retorted. "Now beat it, Harl. I need to think."

"Puddin'…" she began.

"I said beat it!" he snapped, suddenly furious. "You do as I say, you stupid girl!"

He started coughing again and Harley rushed to hold him, but he shoved her violently away. "Get lost, you dumb broad!" he shouted, standing up suddenly and slapping her across the face.

Tears sprang to her eyes, more from the shouting than from the pain, but she nodded slowly and obeyed him without another word. She left the room, shutting the door behind her. It couldn't muffle the sound of his coughing echoing down the hall.

Needless to say, Harley was confused and upset, more for Joker than for herself though. It hurt her to think that anything could bother him this much, and the fact that he didn't feel he could share it with her only made it worse.

She went to the kitchen and then left the steel mill by the back door, intending to get some fresh air and to feed the babies.

The babies were Bud and Lou, Joker and Harley's two pet hyenas. Joker treated them with his usual apathy for everything that was loving and loyal to him, but Harley adored them. She was grateful that someone appreciated all the love and attention she had to give, and showered them with toys, treats, and general affection. They tended to make a mess inside, which Harley inevitably had to clean up, so she usually tied them up out back. She had tied them up this morning after breakfast, and she'd been out all day, so she figured they'd be pretty hungry. Usually they were straining at the leash and kicking up a fuss the moment they heard the door slam. But there wasn't any howling or excited yapping today, and Harley thought that odd.

"Bud!" she called. "Lou! Mommy's got dinner!"

She was answered with complete silence. She went around the corner to where she had tied them up to see that their leashes had been broken, and that they were gone.

Her heart plummeted in worry. They could be anywhere in Arkham City. They could be hurt. Maybe some thug with a gun would think it would be really funny to shoot them. They could be lying in an alley somewhere, bleeding to death. She couldn't bear to think about it. Tears filled her eyes again and she sobbed, rushing back inside and down the hall to the manager's office. She threw open the door without knocking.

"Harley, I told you…"

"They're gone, puddin'!" she shrieked. "The babies are gone!"

He stared at her. "Oh…gone how?"

"They've run off!" she cried. "Why would they do that, puddin'? Didn't I treat them good enough? Why would they wanna leave me?!"

She burst into tears. Joker slowly rose from his chair and went to embrace her. "Now, now, Harley girl, I'm sure they're around here somewhere," he murmured, soothingly. "It's not like them to run off – they probably haven't gone far. Don't you worry, pooh. I'm sure they'll come home soon."

"You really think so, puddin'?" she breathed.

"Course I do," he replied. "Why would anyone wanna leave you forever, baby, when you take such good care of them?"

She managed a smile. "But they could be hurt, puddin'…"

"I'm sure they can take care of themselves, pumpkin. They're natural predators. They can handle themselves in a fight."

"Oh, puddin', I hope you're right!" she exclaimed, embracing him tightly. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost them! I love them so much! And with you being sick and everything…it would be too much to bear, puddin', it really would! I'd go crazy!"

"You already are crazy, Harl," he said, kissing her forehead. "That's why I love you, my stupid, silly, crazy little baby. Now don't worry your pretty head anymore, hmm?"

Harley beamed at him as he kissed her tenderly. It was kinda weird for Mr. J to be this nice and comforting – normally he told her to shut her useless mouth and get ahold of herself before he gave her something to cry about. This was nice, but weird. And she couldn't help but think that his sweet behavior only meant a nasty surprise was waiting just around the corner.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, as she helped him get ready for bed, all she could think about was the babies.

"You ok?" demanded Joker, leaning heavily against the sink as she finished brushing his teeth.

"Yeah. Just worried about the babies," she whispered, rinsing the toothbrush and then taking off her makeup.

"I told you they're fine, pooh. Don't you trust me?" he retorted.

"Course I do, Mr. J," she replied. "But you don't really know they're fine, do you?"

"You calling me a liar?" he demanded.

"Course not, puddin'."

"Good. Because I won't take that from you, you useless dame. I won't…"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off in a fit of coughing. He bent over the sink, blood spilling from his mouth, and Harley watched in horror. She couldn't take much more of this. She embraced him tightly, shushing him gently. "It's ok, puddin'. It's gonna be ok."

He stopped coughing at last, drawing shuddering breaths. "Oh God, puddin'," Harley breathed, tears in her eyes. "Why won't it stop?"

He ignored her, wiping his lips with the back of his hand and gazing into the mirror over the sink. "I look like hell," he muttered.

"No, you look gorgeous, puddin'," murmured Harley, leaning her head lovingly against his shoulder. "Just the most beautiful, handsome, wonderful man in the whole wide world."

"You blind, Harley?" he growled, turning away from the mirror and walking carefully into the bedroom, leaning heavily on his cane.

"No, Mr. J," she whispered, her tears falling. "I'm just in love with you."

He sighed heavily, fumbling to take off his jacket. Harley rushed to help him, and he caught her gently in his arms. "You need something to take your mind off the babies, don't you, pooh bear?" he whispered, kissing her tenderly. "Well, Daddy's got a few ideas."

Harley couldn't help smiling and letting out a giggle. "Ooh, Mr. J! That sounds naughty!"

"You like it naughty, my dirty little whore," he murmured, his kisses growing more passionate. Harley giggled, returning his kisses with equal passion as she ripped his jacket off violently. She threw it onto the ground and grabbed his face in her hands. Just before she shut her eyes, she noticed that something had fallen out of the pocket of the jacket onto the floor. It was the photo and note Joker had received from Penguin. And as Harley's eyes fell upon it, they suddenly widened in horror. She shrieked as she dove for the picture.

"Don't…" began Joker, but it was too late. Harley stared at the photo in her hands in agony and disbelief. It was a picture of the babies posed in a glass case. The note read: _You stuffed me with the gangsters, so I stuff you in return. Who's laughing now, Funny Boy? _

"The babies," Harley breathed. "The babies…he…he…stuffed…the babies?!"

Joker grabbed the picture from her, crumpling it up. He took her face in his hands. "Now listen to me, pooh bear…"

"He stuffed the babies!" shrieked Harley, in a mixture of fury and agony. "Oh God! How…why…how could he do that?! What did they ever do to him…they were innocent! Oh, Jesus Christ! That monster! How could he stuff the babies?! Our babies! Our beautiful, precious babies! They're dead, puddin'!"

"Harley…"

"They're dead and you knew about it!" she shrieked. "Why would you hide that from me, puddin'?! Why didn't you tell me the truth, instead of keeping me waiting and worrying?! Instead of giving me the agony of a hope that was never gonna come true?! Why would you do that to me, Mr. J?! How could you be so cruel?!"

"Because I knew you'd react like this!" he shouted. "I knew you'd get all crazy and upset…"

"Upset?!" she cried. "Why shouldn't I be upset at the death of our babies?! They're gone, puddin'! I'll never see them again! I'll never hold them or feed them or feel what it's like to be completely adored by a sweet, innocent thing who just wants affection from me…oh God!" she sobbed, falling down on the bed and burying her face in the pillows. "Oh God, why?! Why did this have to happen, on top of everything else?!"

She choked on her sobs as Joker slowly sat down next to her on the bed. He began stroking her hair gently. "Harley, I know it hurts, but you have to get ahold of yourself. Now, c'mon, baby. He did it because he was trying to hurt us. Don't let him win."

"That's all this is to you, isn't it?" muttered Harley, glaring at the pillow. "It's all about some stupid war that you have to win. You're like three little boys playing King of the Hill, and you'll do whatever you have to to each other to win the game. None of this is real to you, is it, Mr. J? Not the babies dying, not your sickness, because in your head it's all just some stupid game! And maybe it was, back when we were fighting the Bat in the good old days! But it ain't a game anymore, Mr. J! It ain't a joke! This is real and serious! Our babies are dead! And winning this stupid game ain't gonna bring them back, and it ain't gonna make you well again! So why does it even matter?!"

He was silent. "It's fun, pumpkin," he murmured, smiling. "It's a whole lotta fun. Even when you ain't got nothing left, you always got that."

"Yeah, I'm sure that'll be a big comfort to me once you're dead," she murmured. "You're lying to me about your illness too, ain't ya, Mr. J? Your little cold is a lot more serious than you claim. It's gonna kill you, ain't it? Tell me the truth."

He was silent again. "The truth is everyone dies, pooh," he murmured. "The truth is everything is meaningless. Life is a game, a game that you have to keep playing, a game that you have to keep winning, because if you lose, that's it. That was your shot, and you've blown it. I love games. And I ain't gonna stop playing this one until I have to. But I ain't gonna lose this one neither. If I have to stop playing, I'm gonna see to it that nobody wins it. I'm gonna take all the players down with me, so in the end, they all lose. Y'see?"

Harley didn't reply. "Not all of them," she murmured. "I'm gonna take down one myself. I'm gonna take down the Bird for what he did to my babies. I'm gonna personally choke the life out of him, wringing his neck until he squawks. And then I'm gonna chop his head off and see if he runs around like a chicken does."

Joker stood up. "No, you ain't," he replied firmly, undressing. "We'll send the guys. They're expendable. You ain't."

Harley stared at him. "You can't honestly think I'm gonna let the guys take him out?! The revenge should be mine – it has to be mine! I ain't gonna let anyone else do it!"

"You're gonna do what I tell you, you dumb broad!" he shouted, furiously. "Now just get ahold of yourself, Harley! I need you focused! We're in the middle of a war, and I can't afford you going off the rails with me in this condition! I can't afford you turning into a liability!"

"I don't care about this stupid war!" shrieked Harley. "I just want things to go back to the way they were! When you were ok and the babies were here with us!"

"Well, they're gone, Harley!" shouted Joker. "And things ain't ever gonna go back to the way they were! You can't go back – it ain't that kinda game! You just have to keep going forward and take whatever crap you have to to keep playing!"

She glared at him. "I know the jokes and the games are important to you, Mr. J, but they ain't to me anymore! All I want is to be loved! And if people take that love away from me, I'm sure as hell gonna avenge it!"

"You are going to stay here, and do as I say, and not go wandering off into Penguin's territory!" snapped Joker. "I can't take the risk of losing you now, Harley! I couldn't cope if I lost you! I need you! And it's not a matter of affection, just a matter of practicality! I can't go around doing things the way I used to! I need someone responsible who I can depend on to do things for me. And that's you. I would have thought you'd be happy – after all these years, you've finally got me to admit I need you."

Harley was silent as he climbed into bed, glaring off into the distance with tears still trickling down her face. Joker suddenly struck her across the back of the head. "Hey, you deaf?!" he demanded. "Didn't you hear me?!"

"Yes," muttered Harley.

"Ain't you happy I need you?" he demanded.

"Yeah," she retorted. "Don't you see my nice big smile, Mr. J?"

He glared back at her stern face, then shrugged. "Fine, you ungrateful little brat. You sulk all you want. But before I go to sleep, I want you to promise me you ain't gonna go after Penguin. You promise me that now."

"I promise," murmured Harley.

He seized her chin in his hands and made her look him in the eyes. "Say it again," he hissed.

"I promise," she repeated, gazing back at him firmly. He nodded, releasing her chin and rolling over.

"Night, Harley," he muttered.

"Night," she whispered. She stared into the darkness for some minutes in silence, not moving. Then Joker suddenly started laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" murmured Harley.

He chuckled, turning over. "I guess you could say without you, baby, I'm stuffed!" he giggled.

She glared at him, then turned away and lay down. She didn't close her eyes but kept looking out at the darkness, his laughter mocking her pain. It wasn't funny anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

"Harley!" called Joker the next morning. She wasn't in bed when he woke up, which was unusual. Normally she was all over him, asking him if he was feeling any better, and if she could get him anything, and if he was in the mood to rev up his Harley. But this morning he woke up alone, and that made him nervous. He really hoped the kid hadn't gone and done something stupid.

"Harley!" he called again, leaving the bedroom and entering the office. She wasn't there either, and his apprehension grew. "Harley!" he shouted, throwing open the door to the loading bay. It was empty of anyone but a single henchman, to his relief. He wanted as few people as possible to see him in this condition. If word got around that he was seriously sick, people wouldn't be afraid of him. And if you lost fear, you lost power. He had to keep up appearances as much as possible.

"Marty! You seen Harley?" he shouted at the henchman.

Marty turned and couldn't conceal his surprise at seeing how sick Joker looked. "Um…um…yeah, boss, she left about an hour ago," he stammered.

Joker growled. "Did she say where she was going?" he demanded.

"Uh…not to me, sir," he replied. "But I just thought it would be on business for you…"

"Did you notice which way she headed?" he snapped.

"Um…no," stammered the henchman. "But she took the hyenas' leashes with her, if that helps. Maybe she went to go find them?"

Joker stared at him. "She did what?" he murmured.

"She…um…took the hyenas' leashes with her," repeated the henchman. "You feeling ok, boss? You look real bad."

Joker pulled out his gun and shot him in the face. "Not as bad as you!" he shouted, storming back into the office. "God dammit, Harley, you stupid little whore! I'm gonna break your neck for this if Penguin don't do it first!"

He slammed his cane around the room, knocking over furniture and taking his rage out on inanimate objects, imagining they were Harley's skull. Then he collapsed into his chair, seized by a fit of coughing. He sat there panting, trying to recover, and considering what he should do. If the bitch had been stupid enough to disobey him, she deserved whatever Penguin did to her. If he had been feeling his usual self, he wouldn't have cared what happened to her. But as he had told her last night, it was more a matter of practicality than affection. He couldn't trust the henchmen to do the things he needed to do – they were motivated by money and fear of him. Harley was motivated by love, and that was a far more powerful and reliable stimulant. He needed her. Much as he hated to admit it to himself, he needed her now.

With a growl and a lot of effort, he stood up from the chair. Then he headed for the door, leaning heavily on his cane. "If I gotta go all this way to find out she's already dead, I'll kill her myself," he muttered.


	5. Chapter 5

Harley was not already dead, despite the fact that she was also deep into Penguin's territory. She was a former gymnast, so could leap from building to building pretty easily without being observed. She landed on the railing of a building opposite Penguin's museum, looking down at the guards patrolling the entrance. Then she looked over to the roof of the museum itself. With another jump, she bounded across the gap and landed on top of one of the statues over the door. From this vantage point, she could overhear the henchmen talking beneath her.

"…pretty pissed at the clown. So he sent a couple of the guys to steal the clown's pets and turn 'em into stuffed animals."

"Why would the clown care? He don't have feelings. He probably didn't even care about his pets. He probably didn't treat them any better than he does his bitch."

Harley was about to climb up onto the roof when she paused as she felt her ears burning.

"I think it's more about just getting even – y'know, stealing one of his possessions to get back at him. It don't matter if he values the possessions or not. But the fact that the boss _could _steal it humiliates the clown."

"Wish he'd stolen the clown's bitch instead. Who cares about a couple of dumb animals? But we could have had some fun with his bitch. Maybe he'd let us all ride her. That would humiliate the clown more, wouldn't it?"

"Aw man, don't make me think about stuff like that. It's been a long time since I had it, y'know. The only dames in this place are psychotic or lethal, but frankly I'm not sure that'll bother me for much longer."

"And have you seen the clown's bitch? She is a hot little piece of work. That ass…"

"I know, man. What is she doing wasting her time with the clown? He don't even treat her right. Any man in his right mind would be doing her hard every night."

"Yeah, but the clown ain't in his right mind, that's the point. And neither is she. But that don't make her any less hot. I sometimes think about her screaming my name and moaning underneath me, y'know…"

Harley had heard enough. She had intended to just sneak into the museum and take care of the Penguin, but these guys needed to be taught some manners. So she suddenly dropped down onto the guard who was speaking, slamming his head into the ground. "Sorry to disappoint you, boys, but I prefer being on top," she murmured, grinning.

"Holy shi…" began the other guard, but Harley had punched him in the face, knocking him down the stairs and cracking his skull. She then leapt back onto the roof. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, she thought to herself, as she crawled across the roof heading for the glass tiles running along the center, but she was sick of guys disrespecting her. They weren't worthy of thinking about her like that. Nobody but Mr. J was.

She reached a glass panel and pulled out a blade. Cutting around the edge of the glass, she removed one of the panes and slipped inside the gap. She dropped down to the ground.

All was dark inside. The moonlight shining through the glass was the only illumination, and it cast weird shadows on the surface of the lake leading to the Iceberg Lounge. Harley peered down into the water, and suddenly a giant shark burst out at her, snapping its jaws. She started back in surprise, but recovered quickly. "You must be Birdie's pet fishy," she murmured. "I'll see if I can find something to poison you with while I'm here. Y'know, just so he can see how it feels."

She turned away from the lake, heading down the dark hall. The exhibits were lit up in their cases, and Harley froze suddenly as she came face to face with the one featuring her precious babies.

She stared at them, feeling tears come to her eyes. "Don't be afraid, babies," she whispered, putting her hand against the glass. "Mommy's here now."

The tears began to fall, and she wiped them away angrily. "I'll kill him for what he's done to you, babies," she whispered. "I promise. You sleep tight now. Mommy loves you very much."

She kissed the glass tenderly and then faced the set of double doors next to the exhibit. Pushing these open, she entered another room, deserted, but containing glass exhibits set up in a circle. She stepped closer, eyes narrowing as she recognized one of her Harley Quinn statue-intercoms she had set up around the steel mill. It was missing its head.

"The one across the room's for your boyfriend," said an unpleasant voice Harley recognized. "Sorry I couldn't put you two together, but I ain't a romantic kinda guy like that."

Harley whirled around and came face to face with the Penguin, smoking one of his cigars and smiling at her. "Glad you're here, love," he murmured. "One more addition to my collection."

"I don't think so, Bird-brain," retorted Harley. "And maybe you should switch to collecting stamps or something. There'll be a lot less pain that way."

"Nah, taxidermy is a lot more interesting," retorted Penguin. "Y'can preserve the entire body, position it how you like, and best of all, you've got the terror in their eyes captured forever. Like your little pets. Seen them, have you? Didn't they look scared?"

Harley forced a smile. "I'll bet they were laughing at the end," she murmured. "I bet they did their Mommy and Daddy proud."

"Are you gonna be laughing at the end, sweetheart?" asked Penguin, smiling. "I guess we'll see in a second, won't we?"

"Yeah, I guess we will," agreed Harley. Quick as a flash, she leapt over Penguin, whipped out the leashes and threw them over his neck, tightening them around his throat from behind. He gasped and struggled with her, but she stood firm, tightening her grip, ignoring everything else but the pleasure of choking the life out of the man who had murdered her babies.

Then she felt a gun put against her head. "Let him go, bitch," hissed a voice in her ear. Harley looked around to see that a group of henchmen had surrounded her, all pointing guns at her. She reluctantly released Penguin, who fell forward, gasping for air. She was suddenly seized by two henchmen and slammed against the glass case reserved for the Joker. Penguin approached her.

"Your boyfriend know you're here?" he demanded, massaging his throat.

"He'll figure it out," retorted Harley. "He ain't stupid."

"Nah, but you are," growled Penguin. "It was stupid of you to come here on your own, you little slut! And now you're gonna pay for your stupidity."

He whipped out a long, cruel-looking knife. "Here's what I'm gonna do, love," he whispered. "I'm gonna send the clown a picture of you in that case with your bleeding head fixed onto that statue there. And I'm gonna write him a little note saying: _The boys had a fun time riding the Harley, all 300 of them. We certainly made the most of her mileage before we dismantled her. She couldn't laugh by the end_. Now which of you boys wants to go first?"

A mass of hooting and cheering arose from the surrounding henchmen. "Hold her down!" ordered Penguin, signaling for one to come forward. The two holding her tightened their grip as Harley struggled to free herself. She tried not to feel afraid as the henchman approached her, vowing to fight with every last ounce of strength she had left.

He was standing in front of her and reached down to unzip his pants when there was a loud explosion and suddenly the glass behind Harley shattered into a thousand pieces, sending shards of it flying everywhere and making the henchmen holding her scream and release her as bits of glass flew into them. Harley was suddenly seized from behind by her pigtails and dragged back into the case through the cloud of smoke.

"Sorry to cut the party short!" chuckled a familiar voice. "But Harley only gives rides to one man!"

"Puddin'," breathed Harley, gazing up at him in adoration as the smoke started to clear.

"C'mon, we gotta hurry," he said, seizing her hand and rushing out the back of the case under the cover of smoke. He had a hard time running and it was clearly painful for him, but he held it together well, only occasionally leaning on his cane. Behind the case was a series of grates leading down to a vent, and Joker lifted up one of these, shoving her inside and following, slamming the grate shut behind them.

"It won't take even Bird-brain long to figure out where we've gone," he muttered, indicating that she crawl forward. "If we're lucky he's not too up to speed with his own ventilation system and won't know which area of the museum we're heading for."

"Why would he be up to speed with his own ventilation system?" asked Harley, puzzled.

Joker shrugged. "Well, I am. You never know when an intruder might be wanting to crawl through it, do you? But then I've spent years dealing with Batboy, so I've had lots of practice. Left here, Harley."

She obeyed. "Which area of the museum are we headed for, puddin'?" she asked.

"The exit," he retorted. "The way I came in at the back of the Iceberg Lounge. Take a right here, baby."

They crawled on in silence. "Thanks for rescuing me, Mr. J," whispered Harley. "I'm sorry for disobeying you…"

"Not yet you aren't, but you will be," he retorted. "When we get home I'm going to pound you so hard you won't be able to walk for a week."

"Yeah? I'm looking forward to that, puddin'," she replied, smiling. "What exactly are you gonna pound me with?"

He chuckled. "That's a surprise, pooh," he retorted, grinning at her.

"I love surprises, Mr. J," she breathed.

"Left, Harley," he said, nodding.

There was silence again, and Harley's face fell. "Did you see them, puddin'?" she murmured.

"Yeah," he replied, casually.

"They looked sad, baby," she whispered.

"Not anymore they don't," he replied. "I dressed them up in some hats and bowties. Now they look all happy and fun, just the way they'd want to, pooh."

Harley stopped crawling and turned to him, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Mr. J!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "Oh, Mr. J, you're the greatest!"

"Well, they were my babies too, don't forget, Harley," he replied, grinning. "And I always thought they resembled their Daddy more."

Harley kissed him, beaming. "I love you, Mr. J," she whispered.

He was about to reply when he suddenly started coughing. Harley's face fell again and she held him gently until the fit was past. They were silent again.

"Left up here, Harl," he muttered, wiping his lips with his handkerchief.

She obeyed, and climbed out of the vent shortly afterward, looking around in confusion. They had come out directly across the lake from the Iceberg Lounge. "This isn't the way I came in," muttered Joker. "I don't understand. Left, right, left, left…or was it right? Plus you have to go the opposite directions you went coming in…"

"Lost, are we?" came the voice of the Penguin. They turned to see him standing by the door with his henchman behind him. Penguin was grinning, but his mouth dropped open in shock when he saw the Joker's face. "You look terrible, J," he muttered. "So the rumors are true? This is your last laugh, so to speak?"

"Aw, now, Pengers, can you imagine a world without the Joker?" he chuckled. "I certainly can't. It would be a pretty bleak place, no fun, no laughter, no joy really. And don't pretend you wouldn't miss me."

"I'd certainly hate to think a little disease had accomplished what I never could," retorted Penguin. "But because I'm a nice guy, I'll spare you the pain of a long and lingering illness, J," he said, aiming his umbrella at them.

Joker laughed, shaking his head. "Now Pengers, I made a promise to myself long ago that I'd only ever die at the hand of the Bat. I have this dream to be the one guy to make him break his 'I'll never kill anyone' code. So sorry, I'm saving myself for him. I know it sounds kinda old fashioned, but to me it just feels right."

"Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, J, but let me put it like this," said Penguin. "I'll shoot you and the bitch through the head and you can leave relatively nice corpses for me to stuff, or you can be a little snack for old Tiny there," he said, nodding into the water. "The choice is yours."

Joker glanced into the water. "I suppose Tiny is an ironic name?" he asked.

"Yep. I'm a big fan of irony," retorted Penguin.

"It's a bit subtle for my taste," replied Joker. "I'm more of a slapstick kinda guy."

"Then you'll just love falling into the shark tank, won't you?" replied Penguin, grinning.

"Aw, c'mon, Pengers, could you ever see the Stooges doing that?" demanded Joker. "At least make it a good gag!"

"I promise I'll give you a good punchline," retorted Penguin. "How about 'Tiny's got two of his five a day?'"

"You think that's a good punchline, do you?" retorted Joker, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, could it get any worse than having to face your death surrounded by unfunny hacks…"

He suddenly started coughing violently, bending double over his cane as blood began to spew from his mouth. Harley rushed to hold him, and to her surprise, he embraced her tightly around the waist with one arm, his other hand resting on the head of his cane. He looked up at her when his coughing subsided at last.

"I gotta say, I never imagined it would end like this, being swallowed by a giant shark," he murmured. "But at least we can go out with a laugh, right, baby? C'mon, sweets. Laugh."

She obeyed, giggling, and he joined in, laughing hysterically. Then he suddenly turned and rushed to the edge of the platform, jumping off still holding Harley around the waist. Her laugh turned into a scream as the water came up fast, but then he pressed down on the head of his cane and it shot off, as a grappling hook wrapped itself around the chandelier in the center of the room. Joker and Harley swung across the lake, landing at the entrance to the Iceberg Lounge at the far side.

Joker turned and waved at Penguin, who was shouting in frustration and ordering the men to shoot them. "Thanks for the laughs, Bird-brain! Catch you later!"

He cackled as he and Harley rushed through the lounge to the exit. "Wasn't that great, pooh? Just like that scene from _Star Wars_! I've always thought there was a certain similarity between me and Luke Skywalker! It's the voice, I think."

"I've got less wacky hair than Princess Leia," replied Harley. "And I ain't your sister."

"Let's hope not!" chuckled Joker. "Cause when we get home I'm gonna do something to you that's illegal in 48 states!"

Harley giggled, beaming at him in adoration. They didn't slow down until they were out of Penguin's territory, at which point they hid in an alleyway while Joker sat down and caught his breath. He coughed in between panting, and Harley's smile gradually fell again. True, they had escaped the immediate danger, but puddin' was still sick. Still really sick. And now Penguin knew it.

The thought bothered her all the way home. When they returned to the steel mill at last, they both presented a brave, light-hearted front as they strode past the henchmen and through the loading bay, but the moment they were in the manager's office, he collapsed into his chair, breathing heavily.

"Can I get you anything, puddin'?" asked Harley, concerned.

"Glass of water would be nice," he replied.

She obeyed him, watching as he drank it slowly, still struggling to breathe. "I'm sorry again for breaking my promise to you, puddin'," she murmured.

He shrugged. "It turned out all right in the end, so who cares?"

"Did it?" murmured Harley. "I mean, the Bird knows you're sick now."

He shrugged again. "There's no reason anyone should believe him. He might have just made it up to make me seem weak. And I can't hide this forever, pooh. People have gotta know sometime. But it sure would be nice if there was some way of keeping up appearances. Just until I'm better, y'know."

"Yeah, I know," murmured Harley. She couldn't hold back her tears as she bent down and kissed him. "I love you so much, Mr. J," she whispered. "I can't lose you. I just can't. You were right – the world without you would be a bleak, dark, cruel place, and I couldn't face it alone. I'd go crazy."

He patted her cheek gently. "You'd keep smiling," he murmured, firmly. "Because that's what I'd expect you to do."

Then he grinned. "But you don't need to think about that yet, pooh. I'm gonna be around for a long time. What I told Pengers was true – I ain't dying until Bats kills me. And Bats will never kill anyone. So it looks like I'm never dying!"

He chuckled, which deteriorated into a cough. Harley stared at him in anguish, and he looked up at her. "Smile," he commanded.

She obeyed, although her heart was breaking.


	6. Chapter 6

Later that night, Harley helped Joker into bed, and then turned on the TV, cuddling up next to him. She flipped through the channels, trying to find something interesting to watch. There was that rich boy Bruce Wayne trying to take an interest in politics, there was a rerun of an unfunny 90s sitcom, there was a crummy old horror film…

"Hang on, go back," said Joker, sitting up suddenly.

She obeyed, flicking back to the old horror film. Joker watched it with a maniacal grin forming on his face. Then he began chuckling. "Do you know who that is, kiddo?" he asked, nodding at the screen.

Harley's face scrunched up in concentration. She wasn't great with old horror actors. "Um…Vincent Price? Christopher Lee? Peter Cushing?"

"All great actors, pooh, but not the one we're looking for. No, that one," he said, nodding.

Harley recognized him suddenly. "Clayface?" she murmured.

"Yep. Good old Basil Karlo," chuckled Joker. "The best of all possible actors, who can literally be whoever he wants to be." He giggled. "I think it's time we gave old Bas a call. It's been too long – we're really due for a catch-up."

He kept laughing, and then started coughing again. Harley held him tightly until it was over. He patted her head gently. "I know you're sick of the games, baby," he murmured. "But how would you feel if our game turned into a melodrama?"

"What, like a play?" asked Harley. She shrugged. "We're already in the middle of a performance, ain't we, Mr. J? We have to keep pretending everything's all right all the time. I don't really see the difference between life and a melodrama anymore."

He chuckled. "That's my girl!" he said, kissing her affectionately. "And you know what they say! The show must go on, kid!"

"Will the play have a happy ending, puddin'?" murmured Harley. "Is it a comedy or a tragedy?"

Joker laughed again. "Do I look like the kinda guy who can pull off tragedy, sweets?" he replied, grinning.

She grinned back and kissed him. "Everything is gonna be all right, ain't it, Mr. J?" she asked him gently.

"Don't wanna spoil the ending, toots," he replied. "It would ruin the suspense. This is gonna be an edge of your seat kinda show. A once in a lifetime performance. And our special guest of honor is going to be Bat-brain."

Harley grinned. "It'll be good to see Bats again," she yawned.

Joker smiled at her then turned off the TV. "Time for bed, pumpkin," he murmured, kissing her.

She snuggled against him as he lay down, coughing as he adjusted himself on his back. She put her arm around his bare chest, trying to ignore the marred skin ravaged by the disease. "Night, Harley girl," he whispered.

"Night, puddin'," she breathed. He shut his eyes and was asleep in moments, but she continued to stare at him, silent tears dripping from her eyes. He looked so sick and frail that right now she couldn't believe everything would turn out all right in the end. But there was nothing she could do about it. She shut her eyes, holding him tightly. She just had to find the will to carry on with the show.

**The End**


End file.
